There’s nothing quite like greeting the day after a definitive thrashing of the New Yorks. And today’s glorious blue ceiling seems that much bluer, and that much clearer, thanks to the clowning act put on last evening by Alex “Slaps” Rodriguez.
Tho’ richer than Croesus and blessed with preternatural base-ball talents, Slaps has proven no better than a bush-league bumbler when the stakes are highest. To wit: No “hits” gotten in five chances in last night’s contest; twice delivering “grounders” that allowed the Bostons to administer double executions; and yet another humiliating three-strike dismissal by “Dancin’ Johnny” Papelbon for the final out of the game.
Has Slaps’ recent dalliance with a notorious chorus-line dame drained him if the vigor needed to apply bat to sphere? We Rooters certainly hope it is the case. As my local priest, Father Donovan, often tells an antsy parish before they scatter from the pews to attend a Sunday base ball match, “Every time Slaps strikes out, an Angel gets his wings.”
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